


Part 2: Our Heroes Have A Bad Idea

by orphan_account



Series: A Good Idea [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst and Humor, Bad Ideas, Drinking, Epic Bromance, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 20:20:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3332549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Such interesting thoughts are had in taverns, even ones where people are glaring at your drinking buddy.  At least, that's Cullen's experience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Part 2: Our Heroes Have A Bad Idea

“Get your mind in the game, Commander, or I’ll whip that pert behind of yours all the way back to Minrathous.”

Cullen shakes his head as if to clear it, then laughs “One dreads to think what you would do with it once it was there.” He pauses, and holds up a hand to Dorian, who is already drawing breath to reply.  “Maker, don’t elaborate, please.”

“But, it’s what I do!  I love elaborating on potentially uncomfortable details! I would say it’s to make you blush, but…” he rolls his eyes “...Like finding daggers in a barrel.”

Cullen narrows his eyes in confusion at Dorian, who raises one eyebrow and shakes his head a little.  They look back to the board.  Three pieces remain to Dorian, eight to Cullen.  He moves his tower forward, blocking Dorian’s griffon.  “There.  Check in three.  How’s that, Pavus?” Cullen puts his hands behind his head and leans back in his chair, confident that the Tevene is beaten.  Dorian leans over the board and considers briefly, then moves his last phoenix in front of Cullen’s dragon. “Just fine, Rutherford.”

Cullen frowns in confusion at this maneuver, “Really?  You’re sacrificing your phoenix?  That’s… interesting.”

“No, it’s stupid.  But it buys me a little more time.”

“Not enough, I’m afraid.” The dragon takes the phoenix, and Cullen adds the black piece to the small graveyard of Dorian’s pieces that he has collected at the side of the board. “Checkmate.”

“Oh, you _thrice damned_ dog lord.  Buy me a drink to celebrate yet another Fereldan victory.”

 

They sit upstairs, away from the worst of the noise.  Cullen studies the faces of the soldiers in the tavern, watching the way that that they look at Dorian; sullen, resentful, fearful.  The Imperium is hated and feared among many commoners of the southern realms of Thedas; the coastal towns allied to the Free Cities still lose many citizens to slavers, and there are many Marchers amongst the infantry.  However, looks are not actions, and he cannot censure on the basis of personal emotion, so he settles for a frown in the general direction of the worst of the muttering.  Dorian looks at him, narrowing his eyes for a second, before stating “I spoke to Aldous… ah, the Inquisitor... about my idea.”

Cullen shifts in his seat, and motions for Dorian to continue.

“He liked it.  But… he said…”

Cullen guesses, “That you should talk to me about it?”

“Yes.” Dorian sighs, “...and that you should ask Vivienne and Fiona to organise it.”

“Oh.”  Cullen frowns again, and wonders how the Inquisitor could be quite so tactless; and then remembers that he has thought exactly the same thing.  “It was your idea though… he doesn’t even want you to be part of it?”

“It would seem not.  I don’t know… something’s… changed.  Between him and I.”  

“Dorian… I’m not sure if I can…”

“I know.  I know.  I’m sorry… I don’t mean to burden you with all this…” he shudders theatrically, an attempt at levity, “ _emotion_.”

Cullen smiles a little, but his eyes are sympathetic.  A sudden thought occurs to him, that they are more alike than he has realised in the past - Cullen knows what it is like to live in close confines with people who fear and potentially resent your presence.  At least he had his Templar brothers and sisters with him though - Dorian is alone here.  Even many of the mages shun him, perhaps associating him with Alexius’ sinister presence in Redcliffe.  “A sudden inspiration strikes me, Dorian.”

“And what, pray tell, is this bolt of lightening?”

“That the Inquisitor won’t be back from Griffon Wing Keep for at least a week; he has two barrels of Chastened sack mead in his quarters; and he never seems to drink the stuff anyway.  Seems like… a confluence of circumstance to me.”

“Let me get this straight.” Dorian’s eyes shine with suppressed glee, and though he points his finger at Cullen like a teacher chastising a naughty student, his tone suggests he is along for the ride, “You are suggesting we break into the Inquisitorial quarters, drink for a week and basically give ourselves up to a two man bacchanal?”

Cullen smiles and tilts his head rapidly to the side, a quick gesture that speaks volumes “...perhaps not quite that last part, but I like where you’re going with that.”

**Author's Note:**

> I love writing these guys - so I hope you liked reading this. This work is part of a series, I'll keep posting them when I can.


End file.
